


Another Exodus

by Shadowslayer1331



Series: Sliders: Another Path [1]
Category: Sliders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Novelization, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowslayer1331/pseuds/Shadowslayer1331
Summary: On a world about to be destroyed by the radiation of a pulsar, the sliders are forced to help a military unit improve their sliding technology to evacuate people to a parallel world.An alternate take on The Exodus.
Series: Sliders: Another Path [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034220
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of The Exodus, following a group of alternate sliders who will travel down a different path. This story will feature some subtle changes, and some massive changes to the original Exodus plotline, however it will follow the same formula for the most part. This story is a prequel to my story Masks and is a starting point for my own series titled Sliders: Another Path. All events that happened to the Prime sliders prior to The Exodus (Pilot-The Last of Eden) also happened to these sliders, until the changes that begin within this story.

Today felt no different than any other day on base. She was relaxed, sitting back as she flipped through the pages of the recent magazine she picked up. The cover consisted of two boxing gloves, one colored red with a hammer and sickle, the other featuring the patterns of the American flag. In the middle of both gloves there was a nuclear warhead, the title reading  _ Russia vs USA, The Final Round? _

As she turned to another page, her focus shifted due to an unexpected sound. She heard beeping coming from one of the nearby computers. Turning her attention to it fully now, she reached for the nearby phone, tossing the magazine aside as she dialled out quickly. She turned to the nearby monitor, going over the recent readings as she waited for the call to go through. She scanned over the available data, pausing as she heard the other end pick up.

“Dr. Jariabek?” She asked, glad to have reached him so quickly, especially considering what she just read over.

“Speaking” Jariabek responded, sounding tired.

“I’m sorry to be calling so late, sir,” She replied, pushing down the guilt at possibly waking him up. This was important, and he needed to know as soon as possible, “but the SAT 7 Satellite has picked up an unusual reading”

“Can you be a little more specific, Lieutenant?” He asked, sounding much more focused than he did previously.

“It’s showing an unusual declination for an object that’s just penetrated the outer plane of our system”

“It could only be the pulsar” He replied, not hiding the confusion from his voice. He stuttered slightly as he attempted to continue, “But that doesn't make any sense”

“Yes, sir, I know it doesn’t make any sense” She replied with her own confusion, tapping a button on the keyboard to read more of the data, “maybe you’d better come down here and see for yourself”

“I’m on my way, Lieutenant”

* * *

Quinn fell from the vortex, confusion evident on his face as he realized his landing didn't hurt as most exits usually do. Looking around he found two men watching him with confusion as he sat on the sofa they were carrying. Soon, Rembrandt and Wade landed beside him, each taking up a seat on the comfortable couch. The men dropped the couch seconds later, running away as the three friends heard the voice of the professor upon exiting the vortex.

“Incoming!” he yelled, falling onto the sofa between Wade and Quinn. Wade was quick to move out of the way, giving the older Englishman room to land comfortably.

“I don’t think they were paying retail” Wade commented, looking into the direction the two men ran off after the sliders appeared. The professor let out a breath, getting to his feet as Quinn commented on the situation himself.

“Nothing like an air raid to bring out the looters.”

“Does it bother anybody else that we’re all alone here?” Rembrandt asked, turning to look at Wade and Quinn. Arturo meanwhile scanned the nearly empty city, looking past them as he spotted someone.

“It would seem we are not entirely alone, Mr. Brown. Look,” Arturo responded, pointing at something behind them. The three turned to see a homeless man pushing a shopping cart, seemingly in a hurry. Before any of them could respond, however, they heard the sound of an approaching car. They turned back to the direction of the new sound, spotting it turn the corner sharply. They could tell it was out of control, now heading right for the homeless man and his cart. The three seated sliders were quick to their feet, the four of them rushing over and grabbing the homeless man, pulling him to safety. Just as the five of them escaped the path of the vehicle they heard an explosion, fire billowing out from the bottom of the car as it flipped, landing atop the cart the homeless man was previously pushing. It slid harshly across the pavement, slamming into two other vehicles before coming to a complete stop.

The sliders were quick to respond, rushing over to the vehicle. Quinn spotted a man laying on the pavement beside the car, wounded from the crash. Blood soaked his shirt and jacket, but his eyes were open. He survived and he was awake, but he wasn’t in good condition.

“He’s hurt bad,” Quinn told the others, kneeling beside the man, Wade knelt down on his other side. Rembrandt and Arturo remained standing, looking down at them as Quinn lifted the man's head to rest on his lap. Rembrandt looked between them, then looked back before he spoke.

“Look, I’m gonna try to find some help,” Rembrandt told them, preparing to leave as he heard the man speak. He paused as he heard his voice, turning back to him.

“You must warn them. The pulsar!” he mumbled, his words becoming incoherent as he continued to speak, his eyes wandering as if he wasn’t fully with them anymore.

“In English, please, Doctor,” Arturo asked gently, leaning closer to the dying man. He looked up at him, breathing heavily as he struggled to respond.

“Pulsar...Trajectory...86, not 87”

He struggled to say seven several times, his voice sounding more breathless as he attempted it. Arturo looked on with pity, wishing there was more he could do to help him. Shortly after this, the man stopped breathing, his eyes no longer showing any signs of life. Quinn looked down sadly, slowly lowering his head back down to the pavement. Wade reached over, closing his eyes.

“Did you know him?” Rembrandt asked, looking to the professor.

“Yes, I did. Or at least I knew his double” Arturo replied, “His name is Dr. Vladimir Jariabek. He was a highly respected cosmologist on our world,” after a brief pause to collect himself, he continued, “I attended many of his lectures.”

“I’m sorry, professor. If it’s any consolation, he may still be alive on our world” Quinn replied, focusing on the professor. Wade likewise looked over to him, standing and placing a hand on his arm. She didn’t know if the two of them were close in any way, but the professor clearly respected the man and she wanted to offer her support.

“Thank you, both of you” Arturo replied, smiling over to Wade with appreciation. As he did so Quinn looked back down at Jariabek, noticing something off about his chest wound.

“Hold on a moment,” Quinn whispered, moving the doctor's coat and inspecting the wound more closely, “this is a bullet wound”

“He was shot?” Rembrandt asked, looking between his friends as Arturo stepped forward, offering his hand to Quinn.

“I recommend we leave this area immediately. If he was murdered in an attempt to silence him, the murderer may still be nearby and could attempt to target us next.”

Seeing there was nothing else they could do for him anyway, Quinn took the professor's hand and the four of them left the scene quickly. They proceeded down one of the streets in search of any other people in the city, completely unaware they were spotted leaving by an approaching car. As they walked, a blue vehicle drove by, announcing to everyone that a Civil Defense Test had ended, and for everyone to return to their normal activities. As the four walked together, Wade turned to the professor.

“He said something about a pulsar?” She asked.

“Ah yes, a pulsar,” Arturo replied, “Also known as a neutron star. It’s an old star that collapsed in on itself. It spins very rapidly, and as it spins it emits an immense burst of electromagnetic radiation, or a pulse of radiation if you like. Hence the word pulsar”

“Well, they must not be into theory on this world. We have to warn someone about them.” Rembrandt said.

“Yeah, we can’t let his death be in vain, especially if he was murdered. The only question is, who do we tell? It’s a good bet it's not the military. They may have been the ones who killed him” Wade replied.

“Makes me wonder why they killed him” Rembrandt added, “Trying to keep something about the pulsar secret?”

“It’s always possible. You know, on our world, Dr. Jariabek did consult with the military, but he had an office at Cal Tech,” Arturo mentioned, Quinn grinning as he looked over to him.

“You know, I always wanted to visit Cal Tech.”

* * *

Maggie swiftly walked up the stairwell, recognizing the voice of Colonial Rickman as she reached the upper floor, spotting him walking in her direction. He seemed agitated, speaking to someone over his cellular phone.

“I want hourly updates on the trajectory of that pulsar. I did not ask how difficult it is, just do it.”

She saw him move the cellular away, ending the call and placing his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to her as she saluted him, watching her with a look of great irritation.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” She asked, standing at attention.

“No, Captain, I did not. But you’ve given me no choice. You’ve handled this whole incident with Dr. Jariabek very poorly.” He replied, disappointment thick in his voice.

“Airman Cooper said you gave him orders to shoot Jariabek on sight,” Maggie began, raising her voice as she continued, “How the hell am I supposed to command a squad when I don’t know what’s going on, sir?”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak freely, Captain.” He responded harshly, glaring at her for a moment before turning on his heel, walking away, and gesturing for her to follow.

“You said you saw four individuals leaving the scene?” He asked, looking back at her. She nodded immediately.

“Yes, three men and a woman”

“I want you to find those people, Captain. They may be Russian agents working with Jariabek.”

As he said this he pulled out his cellular, flipping it open and keying in some numbers.

“But Jariabek defected over 20 years ago, sir.”

He stopped walking, turning back to her with a serious expression as he replied.

“He was still a Russian. If he succeeded in getting word to Moscow the security of the entire SAT 7 program would have been breached. Sweep Jariabek’s office clean and keep me informed on the search for the suspects.”

Before Maggie had a chance to respond Rickman turned and left. She pushed down her own irritation at the entire conversation, turning on her heel and proceeding to do as she was ordered.

* * *

“Dr. Jariabek was definitely tracking a pulsar,” Arturo said, looking up from the papers to his friends for a brief moment before looking back at the research. Rembrandt closed the door he was peeking out of, approaching him while Wade looked up from the computer. Quinn approached from behind him, interested in what he found.

“These readings would indicate that it’s due to pass through the outer planes of our solar system.”

“Is that reason enough to kill the man?” Rembrandt asked, placing his hands on his hips. Arturo proceeded to walk past him, still focused on the notes as he approached a small globe featuring different constellations.

“These coordinates here suggest a trajectory of 87 degrees, 13 minutes.” Arturo said, deep in thought as he looked closely at the globe, “If it was 86 degrees, 13 minutes….good heavens. It would put the pulsar in a position to irradiate part of the Earth.”

“Like a nuclear bomb?” Rembrandt asked.

“Same effect, different cause” Arturo replied, turning from the globe and facing his friends, “Think of a lighthouse. The beam is on all the time but you only see it as it passes through your field of vision.”

“Pulsars have a similar narrow beam,” Quinn added, “only their ejecta is radiation, not light”

“Correct. Now, if that radiation touches the Earth, even for a millisecond, the area it covers will be devastated,” Arturo continued, “Structures will survive, but any living thing, plant or animal, will effectively be melted”

“I guess that’s worth killing for if you don’t want anybody to know” Rembrandt replied, his voice filled with defeat.

“Professor, that map, can it tell you when and where the pulsar will hit?” Wade asked, gesturing to a map hanging on the wall. Looking at it, Arturo nodded and approached it.

“Yes, it would,” he replied, pointing to a specific spot on the map, “Here, Russia. Within the next 24 hours”

Before anyone could respond to the new information, the door flew open, a man entering the small room with a gun. Behind him, another armed man entered, along with a woman holding a flashlight. As she shined it at the four of them, she grinned, the friends slowly putting their hands up, knowing they’ve been caught.


	2. Chapter 2

“If you expect to ever get out of here, Quinn Mallory, you’re going to have to give me a little more information than just your name”

Quinn was irritated, to say the least. He and his friends were practically kidnapped by this world's military. They were forced to separate, the others likely dealing with an interrogation process of their own, or at least that’s what Quinn assumed was happening to them. Whatever happened to them he hoped they were unharmed. He hadn’t regarded the woman pacing around him thus far, instead keeping his eyes ahead of him, until now.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” Quinn began, finally turning his attention to Maggie, “I don’t expect you to ever let me out of here.”

“The survival of this country is at stake and it is obvious you are not willing to cooperate,” Maggie replied, raising her voice as she leaned in closer to him, “so I’m going to assume you’re a Russian operative.”

“Pulsars are about to nuke a million innocent lives. What difference does it make who I am? Why are you doing nothing about it?” Quinn asked, his voice harsh.

“This is not a game, Mallory. The loser doesn’t just pick up his marbles and go home.”

“I never claimed this was a game,” Quinn bit back, “there are no games when millions of lives are at stake”

She glared at him, standing up straight once more as she heard the door behind her open. She turned, arms behind her back as she stood aside, Angus Rickman entering the room and walking closer to the table. Quinn looked at him immediately.

“Where are my friends?” he asked, concerned for their safety and internally hoping they weren’t having to deal with a situation similar to his own.

“In another room,” Rickman replied shortly, quickly shifting his attention from Quinn to Maggie, “Captain?”

“I’m getting nowhere, sir”

“That’s because there’s nowhere to get,” Quinn bit out, spotting a young man using a wheelchair and dressed as a scientist entering the room behind Rickman, “Since you have the guns, the ball’s in your court.”

Rickman walked behind Quinn as the young scientist stopped next to the table, watching the scene with interest. Quinn turned his head to follow Rickman as he stopped at his other side, pulling out the Egyptian timer and leaning closer to show him.

“Well, then, let’s play a different game. Why don’t you tell us about this?” he asked with a glare.

There was silence for a moment, Quinn glaring back at Rickman, unsure how he wanted to respond to the question. He didn’t have much time to contemplate, Maggie soon pushing him to answer Rickman's question. He decided to be honest with them.

“It’s called a timer,” Quinn told him, “It has to do with parallel dimensions”

“Does it open the Einstein Rosen Podolsky bridge?” The young scientist asked, smiling as Quinn turned to him with a look of surprise.

“Yes, you know about sliding?” Quinn asked.

“I’m Dr. Steven Jensen. I spent the last three years trying to develop equipment to access parallel worlds. Are you from a parallel dimension?” he answered, looking excited at the prospect.

“Yeah, we arrived just before Jariabek died. We’ve been lost for over two years now.” Quinn replied.

Jensen looked from Quinn to Rickman, nodding for him to follow as he backed away from the table. Rickman complied, standing straight and following Jensen until the two were out of earshot. He leaned in as Jensen whispered, Maggie watching Quinn with suspicion.

Quinn himself felt a great deal of interest in the idea of meeting a fellow scientist who worked on Sliding technology. However, these people were holding him and his friends hostage. Not only that, they were the ones who killed Jariabek. By all accounts, these people reminded him too much of Logan St. Clair and her henchmen. Did every slider they met recently have to be some gun-toting hothead? He was pulled from his thoughts as Rickman once again approached, leaning closer as he spoke.

“As I’m sure Captain Beckett has informed you, we are at full military alert. Your interaction with Dr. Jariabek borders on espionage.”

He was nearly in Quinn’s face now, whispering the last part menacingly.

“But I just told you, I’m from a parallel world,” Quinn replied.

“Yes,” Rickman agreed, “Which makes your case rather unique and open to negotiation.”

“I’ve had some problems with the development of sliding” Jensen chimed in, causing Quinn to internally roll his eyes.

He knew exactly where this conversation was going. He helps them with their sliding problems, they let him and his friends go. He almost gave sliding to a monster before. His nefarious female double who wanted to use it to strip other worlds of their natural resources. He didn’t like the idea of helping these people, but admittedly he didn’t see any alternative choices. Rubbing his forehead he turned away for a moment, closing his eyes in thought. Eventually, he looked back to Rickman.

“What happens if I decide not to help you?” he asked.

“I assume you want this back?” Rickman answered with his own question, once again showing Quinn the Egyptian timer.

“How do I know you’ll let us slide in three days?”

“You have my word, as an officer and a gentleman”

“You have anything more convincing than that?”

With a loud sigh, Rickman once again moved the timer from view, placing both his hands behind his back.

“The penalty for espionage is death by firing squad”

* * *

Quinn was soon reunited with his friends, relieved to see they were all safe and unharmed. The four of them followed after Maggie and Rickman, the second of which spoke as they walked up a set of stairs.

“You will be confined to this base but you have the freedom to move around at will. Just don’t do anything foolish.”

As he spoke he turned to Maggie, offering her the Egyptian timer.

“Carry on, Captain”

With that he turned, walking away as Maggie turned to address the four of them. At this point, they reached the top of the stairs, Wade and the others inspecting their surroundings.

“Your quarters are ready,” She began, turning her attention to Quinn and the Professor, “Dr. Jensen is waiting for both of you. He’s right this way.”

She turned on her heel, beginning to walk as Wade stepped forward a little, her eyes burrowing into the other woman's back.

“There’s something about that girl I don’t like,” she whispered, “No, make that everything about that girl I don’t like. You trust these people?”

“No,” Quinn answered, “but we don’t have a choice.”

“Well, I’ve been on enough bases to know that there’s always a way to sneak off,” Rembrandt told them, the three friends turning to him as he spoke, “I’m gonna try to find us a back door out of here.”

With that, the sliders nodded to each other, each going their separate ways.

* * *

“This is truly remarkable,” Arturo whispered, mostly to himself, as he looked at the complex system standing beside him.

“You say that Dr. Jariabek designed this system?” he asked, turning to address Maggie.

“That’s correct,” she replied, approaching him.

“So you thank him by killing him” Arturo responded, his voice laced with venom, “I would’ve thought a more appropriate reward might’ve been a Presidential Commendation and a pay raise.”

“Just because I wear this uniform doesn’t mean I agree with everything we do,” Maggie replied, her own voice wavering as she spoke.

“On my world, an officer would resign rather than perform a dishonorable act.” Arturo bit back, the two watching each other in silence for a moment before he continued.

“I suppose it’s different here.”

* * *

“You’ve got the ability to track wormholes and store the coordinates of every world you slide to” Quinn muttered in disbelief, eyes reading over the files given to him by Steven Jensen. He slammed the file shut, turning his attention to the doctor as the two traveled the grounds together.

“That’s something I wish I had. There’s a few world’s I’d like to go back to”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jensen asked, the two coming to a stop. Quinn turned to look at him, smiling slightly as he saw the look of interest on Jensen's face. He must be interested in hearing about parallel worlds.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing my friend Gillian again,” Quinn admitted, “or going back to the world with the Azure gate bridge, so I could comfort my mom’s double who also lost her Quinn. I’d especially like to return to the Mystic world”

“Mystic world?” Jensen inquired.

“We landed on a world where my double took on the role of a powerful Sorcerer. He tried to help us get home, but it didn’t work. I wouldn’t mind working with him again, I think he could really have helped us if we had a second shot at it”

Jensen nodded in understanding, a look of sympathy replacing his previous look of interest.

“I couldn’t imagine being lost to the multiverse. But then again, I can’t even slide. Anything I sent into the vortex corrupts the integrity of the wormhole and drops out into oblivion”

“Yeah, that is a problem,” Quinn replied, shuddering at the thought. He could only imagine how bad of a situation this could have been for him. What if he had jumped into the vortex with an issue like this present? He didn’t exactly assure it was safe before going in headfirst.

“Look, I know you can stall me,” Jensen began, “So I'll make you a deal better than Rickman’s. You give me the ability to slide and I'll give you the ability to imprint parallel Earth coordinates and track wormholes. You never know, it might help you get home someday.”

That was true, Quinn even stated it before. If he could revisit worlds, he could have returned to his double and tried finding home countless times with his help. Maybe they could have even worked together to find the Azure sliders and bring them home too, not that he would have known about them at the time. Still, the idea of helping lost Sliders find home felt good to him. After all, he knew how it felt to long for home. But instead, it had been random, and he was no closer to finding home than he was at the beginning of the journey.

“All right,” Quinn agreed, “First we see if my power chip is compatible with your timer.”

“Agreed”


	3. Chapter 3

The catacombs were quiet as Rembrandt walked along in search of an exit. The overhead lighting was overly dim, leaving the area cast mostly in shadow, however, some rooms were lit with small portions of sunlight due to small holes in the ceiling. As he proceeded into yet another room he came to a halt, his eyes catching some graffiti on the wall. As he reached for it he heard a loud voice, stopping and turning to the source of the sound as it reached his ears.

“Don’t touch that!”

It was a young boy, sitting next to some crates with candles strewn about. On the wall next to him was more graffiti, one of a red and white striped cat.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Rembrandt asked, approaching the boy. As he stepped closer, the boy added some finishing touches to the artwork on the wall, seemingly ignoring him. Suddenly, as he remembered the time a thought crossed his mind.

“How come you’re not in school?” Rembrandt inquired.

“How come you’re out of uniform?” The boy shot back, turning from his artwork for a moment to glare at him, then bringing his attention fully back to his work. He seemed distant, uninterested in any attempts at friendly conversation or companionship. For all Rembrandt knew, this kid could have no friends anyway. He wouldn’t give up that easily.

“Oh, I’m just visiting,” Rembrandt told him.

“Who, the rats?”

“Not quite,” He chuckled, picking up one of the candles. As he did so he leaned closer to the artwork, taking a good look at it.

“This is good stuff” He began, “You know when I was a kid, I had a place where I would go. A secret place that nobody else knew about.”

“Why don’t you go there now?” the boy responded, his voice laced with irritation. With a sigh, Rembrandt began wandering, looking around the small room at the different pieces of art.

“You know I dreamed about being a singer one day,” Rembrandt said, thinking back to the days of his youth, “See, I wasn’t very good, so I would go to this place and I would just practice and practice. I would sing as loud and off-key as I wanted because I knew nobody else could hear or make fun of me.”

After a brief moment of silence, the boy turned to face Rembrandt fully. For the first time, his voice wasn't harsh or defensive. That alone gave Rembrandt reason to smile.

“Did you ever get any better?” he asked.

“I’ve got five gold records that say so, but I don’t think my singing’s as good as your drawings” he replied, approaching the boy once more.

“Why are you trying to sneak out?”

“I have my reasons. What I don’t have is a clue”

With a defeated sigh, Rembrandt scanned the area once more, looking down one of the many different tunnels connected to the room.

He was lost. The only exits he found so far were heavily guarded. Every other location he came across were dead ends and made no promise of escape. He was about to enter the tunnel as he heard the kid's voice address him.

“The only thing that way is a bad smell, I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, standing and waving to Rembrandt as he walked in the opposite direction.

“Come on”

“What’s your name, anyway?” Rembrandt asked, following him as he led him back to the surface. He had to cover his eyes as the harsh sun blinded him. Being in such dark rooms for so long caused his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“Malcolm,” he replied, taking several twists and turns until the two stood in front of a large, unlocked gate. Without him, Rembrandt admitted to himself he might have never found this exit.

“This is it, the guards never guard it anymore. Just open the gate and you’re out” Malcolm said, gesturing to it.

“All right, thanks a lot, Malcolm. I’m Rembrandt, by the way, but you can call me Remmy” Rembrandt replied, offering his hand. Malcolm was quick to take it, the two shaking hands before he turned and approached the large metal gate. As he reached out, attempting to push them open or see if it could be climbed over, he felt a jolt shoot through his body. He yelled, falling back onto the hard ground.

“Remmy!”

Malcolm was by his side in an instant, kneeling and grabbing at his arm in a panic.

“Are you okay?” he yelled with clear worry, hovering over him.

“Yeah” Rembrandt replied through deep breaths, managing to sit upright, but with noticeable effort. He leaned against the nearby wall, closing his eyes, and focusing on his breathing.

“This never happened before, you gotta believe me” Malcolm begged, afraid Remmy might think this was done intentionally. To the child's relief, Rembrandt opened his eyes and addressed him.

“I believe you,” he replied through deep breaths, “It's okay, I believe you”

* * *

“Any progress, gentlemen?” Rickman asked as he approached Quinn and Jensen, the two of them hunkered over an open timer. Quinn sighed internally, looking up from his work for a moment to spot Rickman now standing beside him. He turned back to the timer to apply the final touches, putting the device back together.

“We’re about to test the viability of Mallory’s chip in our equipment” Jensen answered, Quinn, turning Jensen’s timer around in his hand and beginning to stand.

“Alright, it's in. Let’s see if it works” Quinn said, Rickman stepping aside to give him some room as he stood. Pressing a button on the device, a beam shot out, opening a swirling sky blue vortex in the middle of the room. Rickman’s face shifted to a look of utter shock and awe, as did many of the other people in the room. To see such a thing for the first time, was a brilliant thing to witness.

“Now all we need to do is build a clone of his chip” Jensen informed Rickman, the beautiful sight of the vortex closing before them, returning the room to normal.

Rickman turned to the sound of footsteps, watching as Maggie stepped up to address him. He still had a look of shock on his face but tried to squash it down as she addressed him.

“Colonel, that pulsar that’s about to hit the Russians, it’s only the lead piece from a collapsing galaxy”

“On the same trajectory?”

“Yes,” Arturo answered, all eyes turning to him as he too entered the room, hands full with paperwork, “transit will take approximately 43 hours, in which time the Earth will have made almost two full rotations.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Rickman asked though everyone in the room felt a pit form in their stomachs based on their tone of voice and the implications hanging in the air.

“It means by the time the cluster passes by, every inch of the Earth will be saturated with massive amounts of radiation” Quinn answered, a look of despair on his face.

“I'll call the pentagon” Rickman quickly replied, face pale as he turned to complete his task. Maggie approached Jensen, taking his hands in her own as the two sliders watched, concluding the two must be in a relationship.

“Mr. Mallory,” Arturo began, Quinn, turning his focus to him, “all life will be extinguished from the Earth before we are due to leave.”

The pit in Quinn's stomach doubled, his face going pale as he heard the information. His inner distress must have been evident, as the professor reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"We're going to be alright, Mr. Mallory. Perhaps we can slide out of here using Jensen's equipment"

"Even if we did our timer can't access the gateway on another Earth. We would be stuck there" Quinn replied, squeezing his eyes shut as he struggled to manage the weight on his chest. Arturo just patted his shoulder, giving him a fatherly smile.

"We will figure it out, we always do"

Quinn wanted to believe that. He knew what the professor was trying to do, and he appreciated it but found he didn't have the strength in him to be as strong or hopeful as the professor. The idea that he and his friends couldn’t slide on the next world weighed heavily on him, but it wasn’t what caused him the most distress. No, it was the knowledge of this world's upcoming doom and his inability to save the billions of lives native to this Earth. He could think of nothing to save them and it left him feeling helpless and bitter.

* * *

Rickman stared out at the clear blue sky, the colors reminding him of the vortex Quinn and Jensen managed to open not too long ago. His arms were behind his back as Wade approached, standing at his side.

“I need to compile a list of people who will be transported to the new world,” He told her, turning from the sky to give her his full attention, “I understand that you are computer savvy. I cannot trust one of my men to do it considering they may not make the cut”

“Choosing who lives and who dies? I don’t want that on me” Wade replied, feeling sick at the idea of picking and choosing who had the right to survive on the new world, and who would remain behind to be slaughtered by such an enormous and unstoppable force.

“Listen,” Rickman replied softly, his voice filled with compassion as he addressed her, “if you don’t help me I may not get the job done in time. If that happens no one will be saved. You have the chance to save lives, I need you, Miss Welles. The people here need you. Please, help me save them.”

She breathed in, looking away and contemplating what she could do. While picking and choosing who lived or died wasn’t appealing to her, leaving everyone to perish was even less so.

“What would you have me do?” she asked.

“I need you to compile a list of the top people on this base, rating it by their performance evaluations. Those people have earned it” he replied. She turned to face him again as she replied.

“What about the president, or the people in Washington?”

Rickman took a deep breath before continuing, looking a bit nervous.

“I never spoke with the president,” He admitted.

“What?”

“All we would end up doing is taking his friends, politicians. People with no usable skills, no value to anyone. This was the most egalitarian method I could think of”

“Okay,” She replied, nodding slowly, “Where do I start?”


End file.
